


All Hail, Alexander The Grrreat!

by LadyMatt



Series: LadyMatt's Fun-Size Ficlets [5]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alec's a closet thespian, Alexander the Great gets off on conquering this particular Persian, Canon Universe, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Magnus is an enthusiastic supporter, POV Magnus Bane, Sexual Humor, Shadowhunter Alec Lightwood, Warlock Magnus Bane, With a performance kink, ridiculous nonsense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-06 12:14:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20291284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMatt/pseuds/LadyMatt
Summary: Having unlocked the closeted thespian cleverly masquerading as Alec Lightwood all these years, Magnus devotes himself to being a VERY enthusiastic participant in each of his husband's private but lively performances! Today's depiction of an all-conquering invader though, might just be Alexander's best role to date!





	All Hail, Alexander The Grrreat!

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [sh_ficletinstruments](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/sh_ficletinstruments) collection. 

> **Prompt: Week 5: Forbidden**
> 
> No one can ever, ever find out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His husband’s formidable powers of application when learning a new skill had always been a source of pride for Magnus, but when paired with Alec’s insatiable, hitherto untapped predilection for role-play sex, he bore witness to more showstopping performances than Menzel could ever give on Broadway!

With few subjects off-limits, they’d racked up an impressively eclectic repertoire. Today’s was a classic.

And being a Saturday, he’d get an evening encore later. Providing he survived this matinee.

Currently sprawled across the hallway floor, (because _this_ Alexander wasn’t willing to travel quite as far as his namesake before staking his claim), they’d been so swept up in each other’s aesthetic appeal (_again_) that valiant attempts at improvised dialogue had come to a juddering halt within seconds of Magnus opening their front door.

Even in a blonde wig more Marilyn than Macedonian king, Alec still made him weak at the knees, the micro tunic beneath his impressive armour allowing a mouth-watering expanse of leg muscle that even the unflattering sandals couldn’t detract from.

While Magnus’ diaphanous purple robe, cinched precariously below the navel by a fist-sized amethyst buckle, clearly had a similar effect on Alec.

‘_Fucking HELL_,’ he’d groaned as Magnus slid a beringed foot from beneath the voluminous costume, revealing a tempting thigh.

‘Is that Attic Greek or rural Macedonian you speak?’ Magnus had panted, before being pounced on and tumbled between door jambs and furniture until they’d tripped over his hem and collapsed _here_, cock-side up, firm hands seating Magnus atop Alec’s majestic ‘greatsword’ with synchronised grunts of satisfaction.

Now, slipping back into character, Alec’s gripping Magnus’ waist, taking control of the tempo and declaring in an insanely HOT, imperious tone, ‘I come to claim dominion over your heart, mind and body, my beautiful Persian. Do you yield?’

_Seriously, where’s his Oscar?_

Nodding emphatically, Magnus amplifies his (requested) invocation voice, to Alec’s obvious delight. ‘I do, my king! _I DO!_’

An answering cry of, ‘Veni, vidi, vici!’ goes momentarily unchecked as Magnus grapples for balance when his euphoric victor ramps up the pace.

Strangled sobs and insincere pleas to slow down are jockeying for position inside his throat, but Alec doesn’t allow him enough breath to make them heard, the power and precision of his jack-hammer hips rattling Magnus’ teeth down to their roots.

Still, in the spirit of authenticity, Magnus attempts speech.

‘Darling...that’s…Caesar.’

‘_Shit!_ _Just...go with it!!_’

‘In that case, ALL HAIL ALEXANDER THE **GRRRREAT!**’ he shouts, rapture and release sending shockwaves of magic rippling out from their straining bodies until, sated and slumped, they let their lungs recover, trading kisses.

‘I have to hand it to you, Alexander,’ he puffs, brushing Alec’s synthetic curls, ‘you going blonde is something I can dig. Izzy was right.’

Alec’s sudden dread stays his hand.

‘Izzy must NEVER know that, Magnus. About any of this. _Promise me._’

‘You command, I obey,’ he soothed, finger-snapping them clean and bed-bound.

‘‘It’s platinum,’ mumbled and unheard, brings down the curtain on another masterpiece.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Author's Note:**

> TY for reading! X


End file.
